Monday, 25 August 2014

The Spectral Book of Horror Stories.

The Spectral Book of Horror Stories is a non-themed
anthology from Spectral Press which contains nineteen stories selected – and
edited – by mark Morris. It’s a stellar line-up of well established authors
contributing to the book and this, along with the high standard established by
Spectral with everything they’ve so far published meant my expectations were
high for this new volume. Having now read an advance review copy of the book I
can say that those expectations were more than fulfilled – this is an
outstanding collection of stories and a brilliant advertisement for the short
form of horror writing.

Leading the procession is On the Tour by Ramsey Campbell, a tale of narcissism and delusion
centred around Stu, one-time drummer in Scotty and the Scousers who is convinced
a Beatles tour in Liverpool is incorporating a
visit to his own home. Stu’s character is skilfully drawn and Campbell succeeds in eliciting – if not
empathy then certainly sympathy - from the reader. There’s a dark undercurrent
(or should that be a backbeat?) to the tale however and as the story progresses
this comes to the fore, leading to an ending whose inevitability in no way
diminishes its tragedy.

On the Tour isn’t
the only story to use music as a backdrop, it’s a theme that occurs in Reggie
Oliver’s The Book and the Ring which
reintroduces the character of Jeremiah Staveley from his earlier story Quieta Non Movere a sixteenth century
composer of choral music. To be honest, there’s nothing too original in the
story itself – a tale if witchcraft and deals with the devil – but the real joy
of the piece is in the way it’s written with the author presenting it as a
written testimony from Staveley himself, beautifully creating the Elizabethan
language and style of writing.

Musicians feature in Brian Hodge’s Cures for a Sickened World – this time a black metal group – Balrog
– whose latest album has been mauled by an egotistical critic, Mr Sunshine. Revenge
ensues, with the critic’s words turned back on him – literally, as a form of
torture. It’s a bleak story with a nihilistic feel to it which gradually
descends deeper and deeper into the darkness.

The fourth music themed story is Conrad Williams’ The Devil’s Interval. The story
immediately struck a chord with me (sorry – pun intended) as, like its protagonist,
I’m a self-taught (i.e. hopeless) guitarist. Pretty much anything that involves
going beyond the third fret instils a mild sense of panic in me and I truly
believe barre chords are a thing of the devil. What actually is a thing of the devil is the guitar
featured in the story, a Fender Strat which unleashes havoc in this witty, yet
dark riff (yeah, I know…) on Faustian themes.

The devil – or at he very least the imagery associated with him
– plays a part in Rio Youers’ Outside
Heavenly – the title referring to a town with surely one of the most ironic
names ever. The story starts with the discovery of a mutilated corpse in a
burning house and then gets progressively darker as the testimony of the
murdered man’s wife gradually uncovers a demonic story with its roots in a
strange settlement just outside of town…

There’s fire aplenty in the Youers story and it’s another
recurring theme in the book. It has a significant role to play in Angela
Slatter’s The October Widow – a vital
component in a yearly ritual of renewal, a ritual involving sacrifice and burnt
offerings carried out by the enigmatic Mirabel so that the natural order of the
world can be maintained. Mr Spock’s philosophy circa Wrath of Khan that the
needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few is the rationale behind this
ceremony but unfortunately it’s a tenet not everyone agrees with – with
disastrous results.

Finding oneself in a new environment can often be a strange
experience, the feeling of being an outsider, not fitting in and it’s this
scenario that’s exploited in Funeral
Rites by Helen Marshall, Something
Sinister in Sunlight by Lisa Tuttle and Eastmouth
by Alison Moore. The former finds Canadian Nora taking lodgings with Mrs
Moreland and becoming entangled in a family tragedy. The arrival of the coffin
containing Moreland’s son Sean brings about a suitably creepy conclusion and
casts new light – or possibly darkness – on the characterisation that has
preceded it.

Something Sinister in
Sunlight has British actor Anson living and working in Los Angeles but nearing the end of his
tether, thoroughly disappointed at the way things have turned out, typecast as
psychopathic killers. In essence a variation of Misery, an encounter with a fan leads to some blurring of the lines
between what’s real and what isn’t.

Eastmouth has
Peter taking girlfriend Sonia back to his home town, the Eastmouth of the title
in what is a beautifully written short story. The prose is concise with not a
word wasted and perfectly creates a growing sense of unease that all is not
what it seems in the small coastal town. It isn’t and the perfect prose and
pacing continues to culminate in one of the best last lines of a story I’ve
seen in quite some time.

In his introduction, Mark Morris pays homage to the Pan and Fontana horror stories
and two stories in this collection probably recapture the spirit of those
stories the best. Stolen Kisses by
Michael Marshall Smith is a short, first person account of how jealousy can
lead to extreme measures – even if it means hurting your best friend – a slight
tale that’s all about the last line.

The Dog’s Home is
by Alison Littlewood (and yes, that apostrophe is exactly where it should be)
and turns out to be a gloriously nasty tale with a suitably gruesome conclusion
which pulls the dog blanket from under your feet. Marley and Me it ain’t.
Thankfully.

Alison is one of the Spectral alumni to appear in the book,
another is John Llewellyn Probert whose contribution is The Life Inspector. A man with a clipboard comes knocking at the
door of Franklin
Chalmers armed with a series of questions designed to determine the value of
his life. It’s a high concept piece with all the dark humour and flourishes
you’d expect from the author but I feel there were a lot more opportunities to
take some swipes at upper middle class twittery than were on display here.

Spectral’s first publication was Gary McMahon’s What They Hear in the Dark so it’s only
right and proper that he should have a story in this first anthology. Dull Fire is much like the characters
within it in that it doesn’t pull its punches. Those characters are McMahon
archetypes, damaged and broken – haunted by, and scarred by their pasts, both
literally and metaphorically. The plot may seem a little contrived, relying too
much on coincidence but to some extent that’s not important – it’s the
emotional impact that counts and this story has that in abundance. It’s a dark
fable (interestingly, written partly as a way to escape a year’s creative block)
and although I felt a few paragraphs at the end which diluted the story’s
impact could have been trimmed this remains a disturbing, angry piece of
writing.

Disturbing is the right word to describe the imagery in
Steve Rasnic Tem’s The Night Doctor with
its generation-spanning harbinger of death. A figure whose appearance put me in
mind of a seventeenth century plague doctor, it’s a brilliant creation – scary
enough as a childhood bogeyman but even scarier when it’s adults who see it…

Quite what Robert Shearman’s Carry Within Some Small Sliver of Me is actually about is, frankly,
beyond me. To call it surreal would be accurate and yet somehow inadequate.
It’s… well, Shearmanesque is probably the best way to describe it. There’s
startling imagery aplenty in this very grim fairy tale about a Girl called
Beverley who’s a bit of a monster.

The “weird tales with SL in their title” tradition continues
with Tom Fletcher’s Slape – a strange
word with all sorts of connotations, the meaning of which is explained by a
character called (fittingly) Eels. It’s a tale of milkmen that’s far from
everyday and embodies that strange other-worldly sense of dislocation felt
during pre-dawn hours. It’s an odd little piece which drops in hints and clues
about a particular customer on the round who may, or may not be slightly
sinister… Odd and confusing yes – but therein lie its strengths.

Weird Tale with SL in its title number three is Stephen
Laws’ The Slista – another strange
title conjuring up pictures of some weird creature, slimy and evil. Which isn’t
that far from the truth as you’ll discover reading this gem of a story. To say
the narrator has a distinctive voice is to understate the case dramatically as
the story is told in the pidgin English of one of a “family under the stairs”
characters, relaying a significant event in which changes are afoot for the
strange brood. It’s a Marmite story to be sure and I had to read it twice for
the full effect to sink in. I loved it though, especially the way so much of
the bigger story – of which this is a vignette – is portrayed through what’s
being said.

The book ends with two stories of the highest quality. The
penultimate tale is Nicholas Royle’s This
Video Does Not Exist. The best horror fiction disturbs and unsettles the
reader and that’s precisely what this story does. It begins almost comically
with the first person narrator, an un-named university lecturer, discovering
that he can’t see his head in his reflection in the mirror. The story has a
touch of the surreal in these opening scenes as he desperately tries to
determine whether what he is seeing (or not seeing, as the case may be) is
real. Things take a turn however with the introduction of a news story about a gruesome
murder in London and then become darker still when an internet search for videos
takes the narrator – and reader – to some places they really don’t want to go.
It’s (as expected, given the author) an enigmatic and beguiling tale but one
whose imagery and overall feel will leave you shaken.

The collection is rounded off by Newspaper Heart from Stephen Volk, author of one of Spectral’s
biggest successes, the critically acclaimed Whitstable.
This is a novella too but it’s a tale so well told you’ll want to read it
in one sitting. A plethora of cultural references place the story in the 1970’s
– specifically the weeks leading up to Bonfire Night and revolves around a
lonely boy’s construction of a guy. As time goes on, a relationship develops
between the boy and his surrogate friend…

It’s a wonderful story which explores the dynamics of a
dysfunctional family. The characters are perfectly drawn and the author
cleverly introduces information and revelations that cast them in ever changing
lights. It builds and builds towards the climax and when that climax arrives
it’s utterly devastating and will leave you reeling. It’s an astounding piece
of writing and a wonderful finale for what is an amazing collection of stories.
In his introduction, Mark Morris states his ambition is for “The Spectral Book of Horror Stories to
become a watchword for genre excellence”. On this evidence he’s already
succeeded, and the release of subsequent volumes is much to be anticipated.

The book is being launched in September at FantasyCon and once it is you'll be able to buy it here.